


Ever-Changing Constants

by TalesFromLuka



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, F/M, Fade to Black, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Rival Relationship, Viera Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27545848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesFromLuka/pseuds/TalesFromLuka
Summary: Estinien never found a person more irritating than Cenelle Sauveterre, the Warrior of Light. A dragoon that ignored her calling, he confronts her during their quest to find the truth about the Dragonsong War. He didn't count on their meeting leading to something more.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light, Warrior of Light/Estinien Wyrmblood
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Ever-Changing Constants

**Author's Note:**

> This is my third posted fic and my first attempt at writing FFXIV fanfic. I hope you enjoy it, however brief and awkward it may be.

For all the trouble he'd seemingly caused, the whole of Ishgard was concerned about the status of their Azure Dragoon. Suffering under the control of Nidhogg made it necessary for the Warrior of Light to fight him in order to save him. No one quite knew the strain it had on her mind, especially in the months of such loss. Perhaps it was why when news that he was conscious came she was rushing to the infirmary. 

She was nearly out of breath as she reached the doors. There he lay in bed, surrounded by friends, Ser Aymeric and Alphinaud. A chirurgeon was leaving the room as she entered. When he saw her, he knew her reaction immediately. First, she would approach silently. Then, she would silently observe with a smile. People would leave to give them space and the smile would break, tears leaving their reservoirs. However, it seemed she was far too taxed emotionally. She was already sobbing by the time she reached his side. Aymeric led Alphinaud out of the room, the boy giving his companion a look of concern. When the doors shut, Estinien weakly lifted the sheets. It took less than a minute for her to join him. Her head perched itself just under his, his hand slowly pet soothing strokes in her hair.

He wasn't emotional: not like her. He was a man who expressed emotions with his lance. And yet, when he saw her cry, he felt compelled to comfort her. For all his foolishness, Haurchefant and he shared one similar opinion: a smile suited her better. He would do anything to see it. He wondered why it meant so much for him that she did. 

-

It was shortly after they embarked on their journey that they began to steal glances. Estinien was entirely focused on his vengeance. Nidhogg would not live while he still breathed. Cenelle was focused on uncovering the secrets of the war, on brokering peace. They'd met before in different circumstances. At one point, she was on his path: helping end the Dragonsong conflict by imbuing herself with the very essence of a dragon. But eventually, the inner beast was quelled by the alluring pull of magic. Her lance became a foil, and Estinien was nonetheless left without another Azure Dragoon to take down Nidhogg. 

At first, he resented her. He would not be overly hostile, but he very well could have. Estinien wanted nothing more than to end the war and he was sure two Dragoons would end it. Now, he had to train harder, gain power faster. The fires of revenge within him easily fueled his growing desire to be the strongest he could. But inside him, her supposed betrayal still infuriated him to the point that he confronted her. 

On a night where she couldn't sleep, she tested her foil. A flimsy thing, he thought. Her other hand held the mana vessel. He watched as she practiced her lunge, the riposte. She looked troubled as she placed the blade away. Her gaze found the moon while she caught her breath. Something in her eyes was pained, frustrated. He was not equipped for that, not when his purpose in coming was so different. Yet when her eyes met his, she still managed a smile. He hated her for that. 

"Does something trouble the Azure Dragoon? I imagine you'd be keeping watch or have you grown tired of being around Alphinaud." She turned to face him. 

"Why did you retire your lance?" He asked abruptly, his voice cold. "Two of us could have easily taken down Nidhogg. The war would be over and he would be nothing but rotting flesh." His lips formed a scowl. "Is your intention to prolong this war when you have the power to end it?"

Cenelle's smile faltered. With their history, it was only a matter of time before he brought it up. With a small sigh, she took a step toward him. "You think two Azure Dragoons would. But I was never meant to be one. I took up the lance and the inner dragon spoke to me. But not as loudly as the mana in the aetherflow around us." 

"You could not have defeated me were that true. You gained the armor. You attempted to best me. Why don't you see the mistake you've made?" He pointed at her accusingly. His eyes practically glowed under his visor. 

A solemn smile reached her lips. "Perhaps you see it that way, but I've made many mistakes and I've never felt more clear than when I made this decision." Her eyes turned to her foil. "With a lance, I'm not at my best. I'm simply following the path of others. But with my foil," she pulled it out, prompting him to do the same. He moved to thrust it towards her throat. It stopped within inches, her own metal brushing his cheek. "I am following my own path. But regarding our duel, I simply have Hydaelyn's blessing. It's an unfair advantage, nothing that makes me better than you. We simply were given different paths to follow." 

Suddenly, he knocked her foil away and tripped her. She fell to the ground with a sweep of his legs. His knees landed on either side of her hips. His lance tip now sat under her chin, his scowl obvious. "How is your flimsy foil and parlor tricks going to stop a beast who's raged for one thousand years? You are being foolish." 

Cenelle frowned before closing her eyes. Moving her hand, a red orb of lightning shot out to knock him off of her. She locked him the same way he had, thighs on either side of his hips. She crossed her arms, a glare in her eye. "Don't project your frustrations on my alleged wrongdoings! I am doing the best I can with or without your respect and approval. Stop fighting me and _work_ with me. Can't you see that's the only way?"

He remained silent, his eyes practically glowing beneath his visor.

"We will defeat Nidhogg. We will win this war. You will not die until you have avenged your parents. I promise you. And if we fail, it is my failure. Not yours." Her frown turned into a half-smile. In that moment, Estinien's gaze wasn't a glare: it softened. Had the Azure Dragoon shown something other than a glare? Perhaps the Twelve had something to do with it. "Return to camp and rest, Wyrmblood. It'll do us no good if you can't keep awake in battle."

He scoffed, rising to a sitting position. "As if I would ever let myself falter." Cenelle moved to get off the man, brushing off her robe as she did. He was quick to follow suit, collecting his lance. "I will best you one day, Warrior of Light." 

Looking over her shoulder, a playful smirk graced her lips. "And I will be waiting for the day you do." 

He managed a mocking chuckle. "It will not be long." As he began to leave, she spoke again: "Perhaps you can spar me each night. My flimsy foil shouldn't be able to do much to you." 

Estinien felt competitiveness consume him. If she wanted to be bested so badly, he would deliver. "You will regret your challenge. But yes. Each night. Once the others have slept." He smirked. "Do not keep me waiting."

From then on, the two would wait til dusk. Ysayle and Alphinaud would eventually succumb to some form of slumber or distraction. Then came their opportunity. 

Each night was filled with the sounds of metal clangs, the sweat of their bodies, and the determination to best one another. And at the same time, it was filled with discoveries. All their fears and frustrations bled into their blades. They knew exactly what was making the other tick in silence, what was on the other's mind. Neither would admit it, but they needed this all along: some could simply manifest their worries into words and they could not. Cenelle was never one to burden others with her thoughts and Estinien was never equipped to express them. It was easier to release the tension than to admit there was any at all. Yet beneath the surface, something else began to burn.

The two had succeeded in disarming one another when something changed. Cenelle seemed different that night: her eyes had that forlorn look from when they began. As he went to take her down, she barely resisted. His hands pinned her wrists, knees boxing her in. She didn't attempt to struggle. When he decided to question it, she already answered. Her gaze was kept away from his. "What if you're right? What if I did make a mistake and it costs everything?" She finally met his gaze, her blue eyes finally expressing everything he didn't see. The self doubt she kept, the fears hidden behind a smile. "I'm nothing without Hydaelyn. Without my foil. Who am I t-"

"Enough." He stopped her. He wasn't sure why. Part of him was pleased to hear her self deprecate, that she had gotten lucky when she bested him at first. Although another part of him, it took a different approach. "I do not waste my nights with people I find unworthy nor with people too weak to hold their own." It was a compliment in its own regard. "You care too much which I detest, you're emotional which I loathe, and, most importantly," his hand moved from her wrist to hold her chin. The talons of his gauntlets gingerly pressed against her skin. "You're the only hope Ishgard has aside from myself. And I will not be fighting alongside someone so drenched in self pity. Dragoon or not." 

Her expression changed as he leaned forward, his visor lifting away from his eyes. It had been so long since she'd seen his face uncovered. "So stop wallowing. Start acting." His hand had yet to leave her chin. She scanned his face for a moment, her eyes stopping at his lips. They were asking for permission. His expression never faltered though his gaze held a different emotion: restraint. 

"I am not gentle." He stated plainly.

"I don't need gentle." She quickly retorted. 

"I will not change for you." 

"I don't want you to."

"I am not sacrificing my mission for you."

"No one's asking you to."

She moved closer with every phrase. There was barely any distance between their faces now. They felt each other's breath on their skin. "Cenelle." He said sternly, his hand dropping to the side of her body. 

"I'm not some weak thing, Estinien. Stop telling me all the reasons I shouldn't when I've already decided I should." 

With little else stalling her, Cenelle pressed a hesitant kiss to his lips. Her hand cradled his cheek as she gently caught his bottom lip. She was slow, languid. She drew him in like he was the very breath she breathed. But he hadn't the patience to wait. As he reciprocated, his hand went to the back of her head, pressing her closer. Ravenously, he ran his teeth across her lip, hearing a small wince as he did. He'd half the mind to mock her until she wrapped her arms around his neck. His free hand moved up her blouse, her skin pin-pricked from the feel of cold metal. She broke their kiss to remove his helmet, finding that latch with ease. The tip of his talons found the small of her back, closing any distance between them. His lips took hers again. He could feel her initial hesitance fade each time they met. She was needy now, as hungry as he was. And he obliged her. 

Each pause took away another piece of armor and entwined another part of their bodies. Soon, it was hard to tell where the other ended and the other began, if the sweat came from their sparring or what happened after. When they finally separated, it was only after a wave of euphoria and they were but an arm's length away from each other. It would've been easier for them if that were the only time, and yet it became more commonplace than sparring. It was a better way to relieve tension they told themselves, a way to forget every lie Ishgard told, every life lost for nothing. But that truly was the greatest falsehood of them all. Passion turned to something deeper. Neither could deny that they _cared_ and it was the most frightening thing that happened. 

Perhaps it was why the day before Nidhogg's slaying felt so final. Cenelle laid against his chest as they rested for the night. He was not one to show the amount of affection she did but there were moments he faltered. His hand would tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear, or gently trace a curve of her body as he adjusted. Somehow, that was more than enough. Yet that night, his arm cradled her to his chest, a protective grip on her bicep.

"I cannot find the urge to sleep." She muttered against him. She raised her head to rest her chin on his sternum. "Knowing you could perish, or me with everything at stake-" her eyes clenched shut as her brow furrowed. Her lips curled in a frown. "I can't sleep knowing it may be one of our last nights." 

Estinien adjusted to look at her. "You shouldn't speak as if you've accepted defeat. Gives your enemy far too much of an upper hand. Makes you weak." His tone was harsh but it conveyed something else. He pulled her body on top of his. "If anything were to happen, Haurchefant would not let me hear the end of it nor Ser Aymeric. That alone would make me wish for death."

Cenelle couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't every day that the man joked. He was just glad to see her smile. "How awful that would be. The poor Azure Dragoon nagged incessantly by two Noble houses of Ishgard." She smiled wide at the thought. "A fate worse than death some would argue." She placed a chaste kiss to his lips, trailing down until she reached the skin over his heart. He felt it flutter. 

"Cenelle." Her name sounded like a prayer when it escaped his lips. He was not a man of words, but of actions. He wanted her to know how he felt, what she meant to him, how grateful he was for the distraction- no, the inspiration that was she. His hands trailed her bare skin, fingers finding every detail of her body. His touch was affectionate, feather light. He planned on giving his all to kill Nidhogg, even if it cost his life. As if she could sense this, her eyes shot him a look of concern. 

"Esti-" Cenelle squealed as he flipped her onto her back. His lips caught hers before she could speak. For how rough he'd been in the past, he was surprisingly gentle. He pulled away to find purchase in the crook of her neck. Her breath hitched with the graze of his teeth. A light kiss to her skin was the only reprieve. He pulled her into his embrace, tucking her head just under his chin. 

"When we face Nidhogg, I will do what is necessary to defeat him. As should you." 

"I know." Her voice was barely a whisper. The smile in her voice faded, the dread starting to set in. He loathed the sound of it. 

"When the battle is over, do not keep me waiting. I've little patience to stay once he is slewn." 

Her head perked up in disbelief. He would never admit the three words that she wanted to pass his lips. He had the emotions in his being, but not the words in his vocabulary. This was the only confirmation she would get and it was enough. 

"I will find you, flimsy foil and all." A small smile graced her lips once more. "Now, we really must sleep. Dawn approaches faster than you think."

"Then silence your tongue." He managed a slight curl of his lips. "Your lips keep tickling my throat. It will keep me awake all night." Cenelle let out a breathy laugh, reciprocating his mark from earlier. He cradled the back of her head, pressing her further in. 

"Goodnight, love." She murmured against him. 

"Hush." He chastised gently. They slept that night in the comfort of each other's arms. The threat of the battle looming was nothing when they had each other. If only they could've stayed that way.

-

In the weeks following his recovery, Cenelle never missed a day of visiting the Azure Dragoon. She stayed at least for a few hours, keeping him company and brightening his spirits. It was harder for him to fight with her, harder still not to appreciate the distraction from his pain. Unfortunately for her, nothing would keep him in his infirmary room. Nothing was there for him in Ishgard. 

Cenelle entered on the day he decided to leave. He already laced his boots, placed a leather cuirass on his body. Her ears fell against her head, frowning. "Your wounds aren't healed, Estinien. You should be in bed! Gods know that-" she quickly realized what he was doing. His plan was all too clear. "You're leaving Ishgard." 

He silently approached her. Wordlessly, he met her gaze. He took her hands, his thumbs tracing over the smooth skin. "Come with me." She opened her mouth to interject but his hand found her chin, holding it up. "You and I could go to Garlemond. We're stronger together, unstoppable. It will put an end to this whole war. You were right: we can work with each other." 

Cenelle heaved a sigh, her lip quivering. "Estinien, I-" she opened her eyes as a tear fell. "I can't leave Ishgard. I have to help where I'm needed and I can't go where I want unless I have to. I'm bound by my duty."

"You're not listening." He cradled her face, "If you stop Garlemond, there is no threat any longer. The war is over, the ones who started it punished. Our duty-"

" _My_ duty was chosen by Hydaelyn. The war is not my only task, you know that. I have to make sure Ishgard does not collapse. Ser Aymeric-"

His hands fell from her face. "So, it's about him." He stepped away with a snarl. 

"Estinien, please. You have to understand."

"Was losing one not enough for you? Has it become a pastime for you? To feel pain when you can avoid it?" His words were vitriol, rolling off his tongue like venom. "You could do so much more instead of wasting your time on the politics of a broken nation."

She stomped over to him before turning him around. She struck him across the face, tears streaming through a glare. "I wanted my pain to end. I thought about it every night and the _only_ thing that brought me from the brink was the hope that you could be saved." Her chest heaved quick, heated breaths as she looked at him. "Haurchefant died. You almost did, too. Slave to the very thing you sought to destroy. And you mock me for my pain when you were the cause." 

Estinien kept his face in the direction the slap forced it. "So why do you abandon me if you care so much? Why him?"

Her expression softened as she stepped closer. Her hand found his unhurt cheek, bringing his gaze to hers. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw tears. There was pain in his eyes, confusion and fear. "Because we cannot change who we are, Estinien." 

His lips nearly frowned, but he saved face. "You used to not care." 

Cenelle shook her head. "I don't. I have always loved you for who you are and that will never change," her thumb traced his cheekbone, "but I must follow my mission and my duty as you must follow yours." The tears fell slowly from her eyes then. "You will always be the Azure Dragoon. I will always be the Warrior of Light. We don't belong together. We can't."

There was a moment of silence between them. She was right. He knew she was. Yet that moment made him wish that, for once, she wasn't. If they were anyone else, they would be together. It was a fact that they couldn't deny. 

He raised a hand to wipe her tears, his finger catching a stray tear. "Smile. That fool will surely come back from the grave to punish me."

She let out a strained laugh. "Go. Ser Aymeric is fretting already." 

He turned her around and gave a gentle push. As she walked away, he spoke one last time: "I will never wait for another. Not like I did for you." 

Cenelle looked over her shoulder, a solemn smile on her lips. "Goodbye, Estinien." The wave of her hair was all he saw as the door finally shut behind her. 

Left alone, the lone dragoon took his lance and opened the window. He hesitated to put his helmet on. She may have called him the Azure Dragoon, but the title was no longer his. He placed the helmet on the bed. Some things had to change even if he could not change himself. Stepping over the bed, he took a deep breath before leaving through the window. 

He knew how much he would miss her smile. He just never thought he'd miss being the reason for it.


End file.
